Internal thought of Abigail Williams act three
by My-Lover-Gren-Gren
Summary: So, its basically an internal Monologue of Abby during the third act court scene, around the time that everythings going nuts. I wrote it in my drama class and got a mark of 100%. Thought id see what others say, that means you. Which also means R&R. :


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Okay, so this is something i wrote for my Drama class, it was an internal monolouge of my character in the play my class put on. I really enjoyed exploring my character through this, and got a 100% on it. So hope you think its as good as my teacher did.

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Abigail Williams:

I laugh but I scream! I cackle yet I wail! Tears fall but I grin! I glare; I thrash out, lashing out. Prepare them (_in a whisper_) prepare them... AND scream it at the right moment, must be right (_whispering_) must be proper... (_Jerking her head toward the ceiling and screams_) "YOU WILL NOT! BEGONE! BEGONE, I SAY!" I fall; I tumble to the floor, moving my hands to my face... it mustn't get my face (_A silent whisper)_ not my face... Ahah! I nearly grin, but I contort my face in pain instead. (_She looks to the girls, bidding them to her will_) And so they follow my lead, they scream too! (_Wailing_) Oh, it is all in my hands now, you mustn't lose it here Abigail_, (I tell myself)_, keep it, and hold fast to it... (_Looking to the ceiling, placing a hand over her mouth)_ "Why, why do you come, yellow bird?" (_A drawling gasps, as if she is drowning) _My love says something, but I ignore his words... (_An internal scowl shines on my mind)_ he is no longer important. He too must suffer if need be... I have no such conscious to stop it _(whisper)_ no. "My face? My face?" I yell it to the ceiling; it seems a proper placement for a bird... (_Whisper)_ for a bird... Danforth screams, and in my mind I laugh! I've got them now! Got them around my finger... (_Whisper)_ Got them... "BE QUIET!" I know not what the words mean for my mind is set on one thing... vengeance, vengeance against John Proctor, VANGENCE against Mary Warren! Vengeance against Goody Proctor... (_Whisper)_ ...vengeance...

And I scream, oh I scream a bloody cry of fear and anguish as I look up into the black beady eyes of the bird, (_whisper)_ the bird with yellow wings... it sores a little down, and I feel like I should smirk... but I do not. Instead a blood curtailing scream emits from my throat, and I feel blood in my mouth... (_Whisper)_ my blood. "But God made my face; you cannot want to tear my face! Envy is a deadly sin Mary!" Chaos... (_Whisper)_ chaos... Gleeful, I am FULL of glee, and I back up in feeeaaar, fear of the yellow bird. And they fallow! (_Whisper_) they fallow... Mary yells to me, I ignore as best I can. Mustn't lose it now... you've got it... (_Whisper) _got it. "Oh, Mary, It is a black art to change your shape. No, I cannot, I cannot stop my mouth. It is god work I do!" they think they can overthrow me! I will overthrow them, I will blind them to the truth and bring about my façade to blind the court, I will not lose, and I will have my power! I will have my revenge! And I plead, I PLEAD with the bird, I plead for no harm to come of me, for no harm to come of my – my girls... (_Whisper)_ My girls... Mary yells frantically; "Abby You mustn't!" And I repeat, I repeat her words. Her words sore up through **my** throat and out of **my** mouth... "Abby, you mustn't!" And it is blank. It is blank. (_Whisper) _Nothing, nothing. We repeat, and repeat and repeat until our throats are dry, until they crack! Until they bleed!

And I say we must keep it, must keep it going, for a climax approaches and I can smell the bittersweet taste of fresh blood on the air, I can feel the powers of death as he circles his way into our midst, I can hear his raspy voice, and feel his cold clammy touch and I will direct him in the proper place, in the proper time. I will help him choose, I will show him I am WORTHY of his presence. And I will find comfort in the arms of the devil, I will... (_Whisper)_ I will.

Mary falls to her knees; she has no power, and voices it so. We repeat, we repeat, and death will reap! (_Whisper)_ And death WILL reap the souls of the living, and bring them down to hell! Proctor is pleading; it is pitiful, and I scowl. He is worthless, just like his retched witch of a wife... (_Whisper_) worthless. I open my mouth and let loose my power; deception. "The wings! Her wings are spreading! Mary, please, don't, don't-!" Again there is chaos! Again I feel the rush, I can smell the peasant aroma that wafts towards me, just outside of my grasp, and it is power, and it is good.

I feel the tension in the court rise; I feel that I'm nearing their breaking point. I back farther away, I'm on my knees, it is difficult and I whimper, and cry out; "She's going to come down! She's walking the beam!" Danforth screams at Mary, I see the fear in her eyes and I feel a smile creep onto my face. They all stand in horror, and I feel my heart beat faster, pumping, pumping, pumping my blood into my vanes as adrenalin sweeps through my every sense, my every nerve numbing my injured arm, and I look at Mary and she lets loose a cry of anguish as she speaks, and we repeat, we repeat: Paris begins to rant out of fear, or something other, I know not. I cut his words short and jump to my feet; I stretch out my arm in fear as I point to our visitor, the yellow winged bird. I let loose the pivotal moment, in impeccable timing. "Look out! She's coming down!" We run, we scream, we terrorise them and then, when only I am left and my girls have gone: turn, slowly, for it is time to face my victory and I can taste the spice of revenge, the salt of tears, and blood. I look to Mary, for she has conformed, I know it now, I know it. I have won... And Death has been told his task, he swoops down towards Proctor. I smirk as I see this shadow close around him, chocking him, clawing at his eyes... and when he's pricked the fleshy clear tissue, he slips into his eyes, and I see the dull look of a dead man... my lover is to die, and I could not care less. For I have wreaked havoc, chaos and in return I have received my vengeance against Elizabeth Proctor... she faces the loss of her husband, a greater loss then her own life, and I cackle inside. Mary addresses me, and runs toward me, I step forward, away from the wall, and open my arms towards her, but not lovingly... in ownership, for she is now mine, and she will do as I bid from this point forwards. I look over her shoulder, daring anyone to try and take my prise from my grasp, but they do not, and so we leave, and so I won, and so John will die, and I will live, and I have won, and death, death was under my command, and I feel the power of Satan, and I am his daughter.

**Review**? i know not manny people will even bother glancing at this story, so the people that do, i'd love to hear what you have to say.


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